


Turning Gold (Your Touch Hurts Me, My Dear)

by KatiMae



Series: Deathless Death, Good God(s) [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA, Angst, Angsty Ryan, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual, Dad Geoff, Dark God Ryan Haywood, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Jack, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I cried writing this, I'm sorry Ryan, Identity Reveal, Kinda, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Trans Jack Pattillo, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but yeah., god AU, sorry - Freeform, they're assholes only because the situation isn't explained or talked about or handled well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:45:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatiMae/pseuds/KatiMae
Summary: He finds these mortals strange, but he can't help being drawn to them.  They seem to have an energy about them- not the one he has, that makes the humans naturally uncomfortable around him- a different kind.  They held a kind of airy warmth that reminded Ryan of the mulled fire-wine he drank with his fellow godlings.  The kind of heat that sat in his chest and spread to his fingertips when they touched, the kind that made him feel light and far away and wonderful.  It was a strange feeling, but no less welcome than the searing kisses from his gold-clad Midas.





	1. I'm a new soul, I came to this strange world, Hoping I could Learn

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading dears,  
> Hope you enjoy it!  
> -Kati
> 
> The pantheon, to clear up any confusion:  
> Miles sun, day-sky, warmth, jests, patron of jokesters and summer-hearts.  
> Jon music, health, weather, patron of painters and musicians and creative minds.  
> Blaine war, ocean, patron of sailors, warriors/soldiers, and brave individuals.  
> Mica earth, nature, patron of wild-hearted and kind individuals.  
> Lindsay passion, fire, patron of artists, smiths, and mothers.  
> Rian ice, night-sky, death, moon, patron of children, the dead, and night-owls.

Ryan came to this city hoping to learn. His brothers and sisters had all dabbled in the mortal realm, lovers and battles and trickery. But he had not deigned to walk among the men and women of Earth since their father had born them into their eternal roles. Ryan was the star-touched Night, and cold Ice, and by association he was also Death. His brothers and sisters had always been well loved, and accepted into the mortal people in their own identities- but Ryan did not have the same luck. The mortals, back when they still seemed to worship their pantheon, had only ever revered him out of fear. A hallowed kind of respect that was bitter and grew nothing but animosity and more dark thoughts in the mortals. 

None of them wanted to accept their end, and he was the embodiment of their eventual mortality, so none of them wanted to accept him. For this reason, once he had crafted himself a mortal body and chosen the city of Los Santos for his time on Earth, he donned a new name. Ryan would be close enough to his original Rian that he would respond easily, and the title of Vagabond was a bit of a personal joke. Someone who wandered with no true place or purpose- that was who he was among these beings of flesh and blood. A nameless mask of darkness with the chill of winter and the void emanating from blue eyes.

He hadn’t expected to be loved and worshiped, so he hadn’t gone under the usual guise his siblings were so well versed in. He would be just what they wanted of him, a heartless killer who reveled in bloodshed and fury. He hadn’t thought that he wouldn’t be able to be that, hadn’t thought it would be so hard. The first problem came when he had taken a job from a man named Burns. He was expected to kill a man who had given bad information, simple enough. 

Very simple, actually, as Ryan made it into the man’s home, had a gun against his throat, had a finger on the trigger- he wasn’t expecting the voice when it came from behind him. 

“Daddy?” young, weighed with sleep, both man and god turned to face a small child, a little cow dangling from her fingertips. Ryan’s mind immediately flashed to his youngest sister, Lindsay, who was a goddess embodying passion and family, the patron of children and protectors. 

The gun was tucked away before the child finished rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Ryan looked to the man, whose eyes were wide and pleading and angry all at once. He sighed, upset to a degree that he wasn’t the unmovable force of violence he had hoped would make him live up to the name of Death. Instead of killing the man, he shrugs and pats the father’s shoulder kindly.

“Double check your intel next time.” Ryan watched the man very quickly move to reassure and protect his daughter once the Vagabond had left their home. Later on, as he stared out at the sunrise from the top of the nearby mountain, Ryan let a prayer pass his lips. 

He wished the man and his daughter well, called his sister to help him protect them. Called his sister to help him protect all of the people who were innocent to the horrors of this city. Called his brothers to make him stronger in battle against deserving foes. Called his father- not for the first time- to ask him why he would make his son Death when he was so easily invested in these mortals. Why he would give his son the gift of dark and cold when it would only make him a pariah. 

When Ryan returned to Burns that day, he set the man straight. The Vagabond did not partake in the harm of innocents, and that man and his child were now under the mercenary’s protection. Any harm to them would be stopped and retributed. Burns surprised the god when he simply laughed, grinned, and told Ryan that he knew he’d been right about him. As it turns out, Burns sent the Vagabond to test him- “for a friend”, the man claimed, as though that made toying with a god any better. Burns was fortunate that Ryan was not as temperamental as some of his siblings or the man would not be smiling quite so smugly.

In the end, Ryan left Burns-call me Burnie-’s building with an invitation to meet one Geoff Ramsey, Kingpin, and an unusual tight feeling in his stomach. Right, human bodies needed sustenance and he had not eaten in some time. It was still peculiar to the god that he felt such a carnal need for food rather than the small, lingering warmth of ambrosia and the red fruits that grew in his sphere of the realms. 

He walked into a shopping center with the intent to find a meal and walked out with a full stomach, several small spiky plants, and a little cow plush. He named each of his new friends once in the safety of his apartment and set about finding the spiked flora homes on his windowsills and kitchen counter. He spent that night in a hazy state on the soft, blanket piled bed, the little cow- who he’d named Edgar on a whim- and disconnected to return to his old home and guide the new souls who had been pulled to eternity that day. 

That morning, Edgar resting on the counter, he drank a can of sugary water and pondered why he’d come here at all. He hadn’t quite been lonely. His sisters and brothers visited him when the time called, he had the passed souls to keep him company- even if it was sometimes sad, Nona hadn’t been able to see her grandson grow up, but she often treated Ryan as such. Nona was probably the only reason he could surely believe had any influence on his decision. The little old woman had died at seventy nine, looked sweet as anything, and was a devious and manipulative gal when she wanted to be.

Ryan enjoyed her company, but her husband had recently found her, and Ryan was much more lonesome without her constant presence. She had suggested he finally visit Earth. Of course, she had told him to bring home a pretty queen, like that absurd Greek myth with the seasons. Ryan was above kidnapping, surely. And aside from that, he was positive he would never find his Persephone. After all, that was a silly story, and no one so appealing had even crossed his path in the months the god had been among the mortals. It was ridiculous. 

Had Ryan known how soon he would be proven wrong, he probably wouldn’t have been so adamant in his exclamations to Edgar and the plants that morning.


	2. Since I came here, Felt the joy and the fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan finally meets with the crew that Burns mentioned, and is faced with the embodiment of an old greek legend his siblings once told him: Persephone.

Geoff Ramsey was not at all what Ryan had expected him to be. His brother Blaine was the god of war and battle, physically strong and outwardly impulsive, with a mind for strategy. Geoff Ramsey was… unexpected. With ink-stained skin and a strangely fitting mustache, the man did not even begin to tower over Ryan, but his demeanor was one of a true king. He held authority in his tired eyes and Ryan was, for a brief moment, reminded of his father. And then the kingpin spoke, and any semblance between the two was lost.

“Dude, you’re early.” Ryan isn’t sure how to respond, his entire view of this man warped by the cracking of his voice. “So, Burns filled you in on the deal?”

“You wish for a member to incet-cite fear into the enemies of your empire.” Ryan struggles to hold the man’s gaze after the small mistake. He had taken quite a long time to get used to some of the nuances of this language, and still missed his mark with some words. Add to that the fact that his own voice was still a bit rumbling from its past disuse, and it was lucky he could speak at all.

“Yeah, that’s about it.” Geoff graciously ignored the slip, only chuckling slightly under his breath. “So, you ready to meet the others? You’ll have a room here, and with all the heist planning you’ll be spending a long time around the Penthouse, so you can move your stuff in today too.” Ryan nods, opting to stay silent rather than ruin his terror-inspiring facade with another mistake.

The first one he meets is Jack, who is fire-haired and wears bright colors in the flowers on her shirt. She makes Ryan think of wildfires in jungles and pulls him into a warm, motherly hug when he reaches out to shake her hand. Ryan decides he likes her, and hopes the feeling is mutual. That was the first hug he had ever received from a mortal who wasn’t a poor soul in his realm. She had a kind smile and Ryan was glad she went with them to introduce him to the others. Hopefully her presence would counteract the feeling of unease that mortals normally held around him.

The rest all came in a frenzied and blurry line of social interaction that left Ryan wishing for his apartment and the company of his plants and Edgar. First was Michael, and Ryan saw the mark of his sister immediately: Lindsay’s love seemed draped around the mortal’s shoulders like garlands of brilliant flowers. He had a head full of auburn curls and his skin was dotted with splatters of color. His whiskey eyes showed suspicion when he shook Ryan’s hand, but after a while it molded into apprehension and the god decided to count that as a good sign.

Jeremy was next, and he looked up at the god with a smile that screamed innocence. Ryan immediately compared the boy to his brother Miles, who held the same light in his eyes and seemed exuberantly happy for no reason at all hours of the day. He nodded, more to himself than Jeremy, deciding to watch out for this one in particular. The light ones always were fragile.

There was one member left, Ryan knew this, but no one came forward. Instead, Geoff called angrily for the unknown sixth member, and then the sun walked in. Not the actual sun, of course, though Ryan could hardly tell what with the sun glinting to brilliantly off of the several layers of golden jewelry that hung off the boy. Even his skin seemed to glow in the light from the window, a tan shade that reminded Ryan of the summer heat. The boy took one look at the god and made a strange choked, squawking sound that made Ryan’s ears ring. 

“Jesus Gavin, what’s with all the bling?” Jeremy is answered quickly by Michael while the golden boy- Gavin, apparently- still seemed to be processing Ryan’s existence.

“Just get back from a job boi?” a slight nod and the two are back to their activity with the picture screen- which Ryan still didn’t quite understand and decided to ignore.

“Is that the bloody Vagabond Geoffrey?” His voice is strange, different than the other mortals Ryan has met here so far, but similar to one of Miles’s beaus from decades ago, English. It sounds nice, quite musical and somehow pretty even with the way it was practically a shrieking query to the kingpin. 

“Gavin, behave, this is the new member we talked about with Burnie last week.” Gavin balks and splutters to Jack, who only laughs.

“Greetings?” Ryan tries, hoping to smooth over whatever it was that he did. Geoff bursts into manic laughter, and Ryan is left even more confused when he and Jack disappear into the kitchen, leaving him and Gavin to stare at each other. Reading into mortal social cues was increasingly difficult for him, he had given up hope of ever making sense of it. The one thing he did manage to pick up on was the wideness of the mortal’s eyes and his fast breathing. Gavin was afraid of him. “I can remove the mask if that will help you?” He decides to take the silence as a yes and pulls the rubber from his face easily, glad he had decided against the dark paint for his eyes today. He pulls out the tie in his hair before smoothing it back and tying it again to try and appear composed.

“Wot?” Gavin seemed worse, if anything, now studying the god with red cheeks and ears, blinking rapidly. It occurred to Ryan that the mortal may be ill, that did not seem to be a normal coloring, and he looked a bit shaky. 

“Are you alright Gavin?” a small nod and the boy hurried off down the hall, a door slamming shut a moment later. Ryan turned away from the door to find Jeremy and Michael had watched their interaction. “Is he ailing?”

“Nah, Gav’s just bad with new people.” Michael shrugs with his response, looking Ryan up and down before smirking. “Dude, you look like a lost puppy.” Ryan’s brow pulls into a furrow at the comment, and he directs his next inquiry to Jeremy.

“Geoff informed me I would have a room?”

“Yeah, the one across from Jack’s. I’ll show you where it is if you wanna grab your stuff.” Ryan nods, and thanks the smaller man who then shows him to his room. One wall is entirely windows, which makes Ryan glad for his plants. He would have to move them here so he could properly care for them. 

He sets about making his room more suitable as soon as the door is shut, materializing his plants on a table next to the bed, letting them line up against the window. Edgar appears on the bed after it’s been piled with blankets and pillows- and furs from his own bed off of this plane. He does a quick sweep of the bathroom, adding his grease paint and hygienics to the mirrored cabinet and soft towels to the hooks. 

He fills the closet with the shirts and pants he enjoyed, the leather jacket is shed to be placed on the chair by the door, followed soon after by his mask and boots. His weapons are set on another shelf which he fills with books. Once he has finished, he pulls on one of the soft sweaters he had grown to enjoy and placed Edgar in the pocket to go into the kitchen and find some sort of food. 

He does not attempt to keep up his persona of a fearsome villain around his crew- that was the word Geoff had used, though Ryan’s mind supplied only the definition of family. They would be his kin while on Earth, he was not about to give them more of a reason to detest him. They already had an instinct that he was off, or to be feared, they did not need a greater incentive. Besides, with this body his identity was easily changed. There was no reason to hide it from them if he would be living here.  
His mind was pulled towards Gavin, who he had done nothing to but who seemed to be the one reacting most violently to his presence. Ryan may have expected Michael to react this way, seeing as how the man had already apparently grown accustomed to a completely different godly presence. Still, something about the frightened boy drew the god in.

It was silly, childish really, the notion that one moment shared with some mortal could leave such an impact on an age-old god. But then, here it had done just that. Ryan had a picture of the golden boy in his mind every time he lost focus while stocking his room. The golden glow of the sun off his adornments was burned into Ryan’s mind along with his brilliant green eyes. Or were they more of a mix of gold and blue around the pupil? They had seemed to have a certain shade of grey mixed in, but that could have been a trick of the light. Ryan decided that they must have been some kind of green- but the sun had been in them, so they seemed to glow and were distorted to him. He would find out later, he had time. 

He realized, finally leaving his thoughts to focus on his surroundings, that he had been standing outside the living room for quite a while. An abstract thought flew into his head and although he ignored it when he continued walking to the kitchen, it remained in the back of his mind, pestering him.

Why had the color of this mortal’s eyes been so important to him?


	3. The only heaven I’ll be sent to, Is when I’m alone with You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan cannot fathom the way heat and light seem to pour from the English man's body. His smile is blinding to some degree and it strikes a match in the god's chest. The sulfur smoke seems to rise and put a haze over his eyes. If he had not already seen paradise with his own eyes, he would assume that this was it. In fact, he decides here that this feeling of unknown and unbidden warmth that flutters about his mortal form must be the true heaven. Surely the realm his brothers and sisters lived must be some sort of ill-named illusion.

Ryan’s first job with the crew- more of a test run than anything- was to guard Gavin. It was a simple run, just out to a supplier to negotiate and back. Really, the whole thing was overwhelmingly mediocre. No fighting, no tension. 

The unique part about it was really Gavin. Ryan had been working with the crew for nearly a month, and he still hadn’t spent too much time alone with the golden boy. So while he drove, Ryan studied Gavin.

He was beautiful, in the yellow streetlamps of the city, his trinkets gleamed in the soft glow and his eyes shined mischief. Ryan had never been quite so enamored with another being. His mind took silent note of the way Gavin’s eyes caught the sign from a restaurant on the way to the job.

He watched Gavin’s entire demeanor change to one of power and superiority, followed dutifully behind the lad when they entered the warehouse. Gavin was a whole new person, clever and collected and fearless. He masked his emotions in a facade of smugness, nose scrunched and smirk tilted into place. Ryan was impressed. He still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of the expression of emotions, but he was even less far along with the hiding of them.

They wrapped up the deal and got back in their car with no trouble, Ryan at the wheel and Gavin gazing out the window. And that was when the questions started.

“Wot if your legs didn’t know they were legs?” Ryan almost swerved at the sudden breaking of silence. “D’you think you could still walk?”

“You’re assuming that legs are self aware.” Ryan responds, startling Gavin, who was sure he’d be ignored. “Legs are controlled by impulses in the brain, Gavin.” Ryan pulls off into the drive through of the food place that caught Gavin’s eye earlier, tossing off his mask. 

“So what if your brain didn’t know how to do legs?”

“Then you’d be paralyzed.” Ryan pauses, looking at the menu board. “What did you want to eat?”

Gavin orders food, then laughs when all Ryan gets is two milkshakes. Ryan had never had one before, but they seemed to be sweet and cold, so they couldn’t go wrong. Especially with how Gavin’s close proximity was causing Ryan to heat up.

Ryan cannot fathom the way heat and light seem to pour from the English man's body. His smile is blinding to some degree and it strikes a match in the god's chest. The sulfur smoke seems to rise and put a haze over his eyes. 

If he had not already seen paradise with his own eyes, he would assume that this was it. In fact, he decides here that this feeling of unknown and unbidden warmth which flutters about his mortal form must be the true heaven. Surely the realm his brothers and sisters lived is actually some sort of ill-named illusion.

They end up stopping off at Chilliad at Gavin’s request, and sit on the roof of the truck to eat and watch the stars. Gavin seems impressed by Ryan’s knowledge of constellations, and Ryan is proud that the Night sky, something he helped craft into existence, is so interesting to Gavin.

They spend so long up there talking and debating hypotheticals, but they hardly manage to realize any time has passed before Geoff calls Gavin to check in- ‘you’re late, asshole, I thought something happened!’- and they eventually have to head home.

Ryan parks the car and is unbuckling his seat belt when Gavin tugs him close by the collar of his leather jacket and presses a kiss to the god’s lips. Gavin is gone by the time Ryan realizes what that intense burning feeling is. Ryan sits in the car, running fingers over his tingling lips for a long time before he finally heads upstairs. 

He finds Jeremy in the living room once he does, and sits next to the small man on the couch. Some movie is playing on the screen, but neither one is paying attention to it, so Ryan decides Jeremy will be a good source of advice.

“Jeremy, I do not know what is wrong with me.” The Bostonian turns to him and motions for him to continue. “I- I just feel so-” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “It's a kind of heat, warmth, that I get when I’m here, with the crew. I think it might be infecting me.”

“What?” Jeremy’s voice is high and incredulous, eyes narrow.

“It's- it kind of makes me feel like I’ve just drunk alcohol, but it is less disconnected. It is lightness in my stomach and warmth in my chest.” The god stills his wildly gesturing hands, looking down at them. “And my face is sometimes hot and red when I look at it. Am I sick?”

“Sick? Wh- god, Ryan, no. You aren’t sick. That’s just what happens when you’re happy.” Ryan can’t seem to read the expression on Jeremy’s face, and he wonders if maybe this is a trick- joke. The crew does so like jokes, and they find it humorous when Ryan doesn’t quite grasp their customs or childhood traditions.

“And this is not an illness?”

“No!” Jeremy is laughing now, at the absurdity of it all, but Ryan thanks him anyway before retiring to bed. He is glad to know that this isn’t an ailment, or another play-ground jest he never experienced. 

Ryan falls asleep thinking of the feeling. He’d felt it before, with his siblings, but they had duties as he did and could not spend too much of their time in the Underworld with him. He decided that Jeremy must be right. But then, he knew he was happy when Gavin kissed him, so why had that been so different?

Why had it burned him in such a way to have the mortal’s mouth on his? Ryan’s thoughts drifted and jumped around until he was picturing Gavin again, all lit up in gold light. He thought briefly of the feeling of Gavin's hand in his when he helped the boy down from the roof of the car, his hands tracing Gavin's hips. He thought of the way Gavin had smiled shyly at him all the way back to the penthouse. 

He wondered what the mortal had meant by the kiss. Had it been a simple thank you? Was it meant to be friendly? Ryan sometimes kisses his brothers and sisters on the cheeks or forehead. But then, Lindsay kissed Michael's lips as an act of love. And Barbara had kissed the lips of the Beau she'd had when Ryan worked with her and Burns.

He fell asleep wondering why the kiss had happened, and when it would happen again. He finds himself hoping that it happens soon.


	4. If I’m a Pagan of the good times, My Lover’s the Sunlight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Ryan have been together for two months, Ryan is in his third month as a mortal, and Lindsay seems to find all his confusion and learning "adorable".

      Gavin’s touch seemed to burn him like fire, the warmth spreading and consuming until there was nothing left to Ryan.  The god was overwhelmed: he had always been- will always be- the Lord over nighttime and icy cool, but Gavin seemed to light an inferno in every one of the sensors in Ryan’s new mortal form.  He was burning and he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care.  

      Lindsay called him lovesick, told him how similarly she felt calmed and exhilarated in Michael’s presence.  Ryan asked her when the burning would stop, and she laughed good-naturedly at her younger brother.  Amusement lit her eyes and slipped into her voice.

      “Rian, it will never stop.  It is the same with me.  Michael makes me feel high and sleepy and weightless all at once.  It never stops, but you grow to love the feeling, because it is wonderful to love the mortal who causes it.”  Ryan, who normally took such comforts in his sister’s advice, was still at a loss.  

      Gavin’s touch made him  _ hurt _ .  It was an unbearable searing heat that he had never felt before, and he was called back to one of the books on his over-stuffed shelves.  There had been a myth, a king who mistook the gift of a god and was cursed forever to turn the world to solid gold.  Midas.  That was what Gavin seemed to be to him.  

The boy was slowly turning Ryan to solid gold with his fiery kisses and heated touches that lingered to prolong the heat.  Ryan was dying in this boy’s love.  

Even after realizing this, Ryan couldn’t hope to turn the boy’s touch away.  He craved it, because when they were apart for too long Ryan felt an unbearable kind of cold seeping into his bones.  He had never hated the chill before, but now it seemed vile and he could understand why the mortals had despised him all these long centuries.  It was terrible to have the heat taken away.

      And, oh, what a heat it was.  It was three months since Ryan was with the crew, two since that night on the stakeout when they had first sat together, and Gavin was ablaze. They fell into Ryan’s bed in a flurry of giggles and flames.  The lights of the city made Gavin’s skin glow in colors Ryan adored, kissing a spot of blue on the boy’s chest, not remembering when their shirts had been removed.

      Gavin murmured small pleasantries and moans while Ryan worked his way up the mortal’s neck, leaving a few colors of his own on the tan skin.  A nip to a golden jaw elicited another giggle, and a faint “you knob” from the Brit.  

      Ryan only smiled into the skin, pressing a kiss before migrating to parted lips.  Ryan swore that the breath from Gavin’s lips in that moment was sweeter than any fire-wine he had yet to taste, than the sugary drinks he had become addicted to here.  The brush of tongues that followed burned like Geoff’s whiskey and made the god gasp.  

      Gavin’s hands stole the last of their clothing, leaving the pilfered garments strewn across the room wherever he had deemed fit to toss them.  Their bodies molded together naturally, wandering hands the only distraction from the clashing of their mouths.  Ryan could loose it just from the burn of Gavin’s body against his and the way the mortal bites the god’s lower lip.  

      He somehow holds off long into the night, their bodies moving in tandem, hips snapping and hands grasping desperately and moans broken and high in the air around them.  Ryan very distantly wonders why this is not creating some sort of hurricane, this meeting of hot and cold.  Then Gavin is crying out in a tone that makes the god half mad and an instant later they’re slowing, collapsing into the kaleidoscope sheets and gasping for breath.  Their skin is sticky with sweat and something else and Gavin wipes the worst off with a handful of tissues, ties and tosses the condom, and sighs.  

      Ryan pulls his mortal in for another kiss, this one long and slow, drawn out in the patch of golden-pink light from the window.  Gavin smiles, his lips a lazy grin against Ryan’s and the god presses one more quick peck to them before gathering Gavin up in his arms and burying his face in messy brown hair.

      “Is it too early for confessions?” Ryan’s cheeks burn when he asks, and he notices that he had grown used to Gavin’s electric touch at some point.  Gavin’s breath falters against his neck and Ryan curses himself.

      “I’m not sure, love.  Seems that way… but kinda not, innit?”  the words are pondering and slurred ever so slightly with fatigue.  Ryan hums in response, his fingers tracing patterns on Gavin’s hips and up his spine.  “My lovely Ryan.” The god’s heart twists in a horrid way at how close Ryan sounds to Rian when it comes through in Gavin’s accent.  He still hasn’t told him.  He needs to tell him, it's awful to keep such a huge secret from his love, but it terrifies Ryan.

      Once Gavin knows the truth, there’s no guarantee that he won’t just up and leave Ryan.  No saying he won’t scream and throw things and run Ryan out of this new life and right back into the horrible cold of the Underworld.  Gavin would hate him, and that would kill Ryan, immortality be damned.  

      Ryan falls asleep long after Gavin, his chest still icy and heavy with guilt.


	5. I had a thought, Dear, However scary, About that night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets cannot be kept forever, Ryan learns. And the truth has unknown consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be away from internet and civilization for the next week, but I shall return with more of Turning Gold as well as three more one-shots when I come back. Hope you like this chapter,  
> -Kat

         The night had started off normal enough.  Gavin wanted to go out, so he and Ryan made reservations.  The went to a somewhat nice restaurant, and spent dinner with smiles and clasped hands.  By the time they were done, they had decided to go for a walk afterwards. 

         They hardly make it three blocks before some lowlife with a gun decides to ruin everything.  Ryan tries to diffuse the situation first, but then the man points the gun at Gavin’s head and the god feels his mortal body’s heart stop in its place, and then he sees red.

         He comes back to himself with the man’s heart at his feet, the body pinned against the brick wall of the alley by stakes of rebar.  Gavin is scared, his eyes wide and nose flaring.  Ryan tries to move closer to reassure him but Gavin just flinches away. Ryan doesn’t understand.  

         They get back to the penthouse and Gavin still won’t walk next to him, won’t touch him. He asks what’s wrong, and Gavin tells him that he’d killed that man while hardly lifting a finger.  He apologizes, he didn’t know what to do, he thought Gavin would get hurt.

         Gavin laughs, and the tension breaks with his murmur of “silly Rye”. Gavin pulls him into his bed against the windows, eyes glowing green in the light.  They remind Ryan of the special plants Mica made to live in his Underworld.  They sometimes had a faint ethereal glow to them.

         They lie there for a while, cuddled together, before Gavin asks him how he did that to the man in the alley.  Ryan is suddenly freezing cold, despite Gavin’s burning heat. 

         His chest hurts, Gavin’s warmth doing nothing to stop the spread of ice through him.  He feels sick, like he can’t breath, and panic rushes through him in a sudden sweeping daze.  His throat is burning, but with the kind of heat that comes from intense cold against flesh.  His hands falter, clutching suddenly to Gavin’s skin and the Brit makes a squawk of complaint, sitting up to get a better look at Ryan.  

         What he sees is the mercenary quietly gasping for unavailable breath, a hand moving rapid-fire to claw at his constricting throat with shaking fingers.  Gavin knows a panic attack when he sees one, they’ve all had something similar.  Jackie went into fits when someone was missing or badly hurt, pulling at her hair and biting her nails.  Geoff drank sometimes to the point of sick, always a sobbing mess over old friends lost and new friends hurt.  Michael had comedowns from his rage, episodes of shaking and fearful eyes that Lindsay and Gavin soothed away expertly.  Jeremy would sometimes grow quiet, stop eating, sleeping, wouldn’t move for days.  Gavin once found the small Boston lad on the roof, muttering rap lyrics under the cry of the wind and gripping the ledge with fingers speckled by dried blood.  

         Gavin had never seen Ryan break- Geoff did once, apparently, after a long night, a rival gang had challenged them and a civilian got caught in the crossfire.  Ryan had shut down then, Geoff had to half-carry him away from the body-littered street and Ryan had sat curled up on the couch with Jackie in the Gent’s safe house, clutching a cow plush and muttering in some crazy language.  This time didn’t look like a shutdown though.

         Gavin carefully tugged Ryan’s hands to rest in his, sitting the man up and rubbing his back.  An old lullaby from his mom popped into his head and Gavin sang it softly to Ryan without thinking.  After a few moments, the older’s breathing had calmed and he was no longer shaking, though now his eyes were red. 

         “You alright love?  What happened?” Ryan shook his head, letting out a whimper.

         “I cannot tell you.” Gavin frowned at that.

         “Why not?”

         “You will despise me.”  A small scoff left the lad and he pulled away from Ryan to get a good look at the man, raising an eyebrow.  “Gavin, please,”

         “Tell me.” another adamant shake. “Ryan, now. I won’t hate you.”

         “You do not know that.” another glare. “I… I can’t Gavin, you will-”

         “Rye, I will not hate you, so stop actin’ dodgy and and tell me.” Ryan frowns, a sort of worried pout gracing his features before he sighs.

         “I am not… uh, I’m not a person.” Gavin just stares for a good minute before making a confused noise.  “I’m a god, well, godling technically, of Ice and Night.  And… Death, technically.”

         Gavin only stared for a good while, nearly driving Ryan into another attack.  Finally, he asked for proof.  Ryan picked up the glass from his bedside table and froze the water, handing the glass to the lad.  Gavin studied the cup, mind wandering back to the alley incident from earlier that night.  He stood quickly, dropping the glass back onto the bed and biting his lip.

         “Leave me alone for a while, yeah? Need to think.”

         Ryan feels his warmth leave with Gavin, but stays still as asked of him.


	6. Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rian feels the unbearable cold returning, and now his mortals hurt him in a new, unwelcome way. Instead of burning, they coat his being in ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow, I wasn't prepared for the trip that was reading through and re-editing this. I feel such guilt putting poor Ryan through all of this, and I'm honestly so sorry.   
> -Kat

It hurt to know the truth.  Gavin wanted to be alone- well, Ryan assumed this after the mortal stormed off to his own room following his confession.  Ryan felt… broken.  There was no relief at having the guilt off of his chest, because it had immediately been replaced by the hollow ache of loss.  Gavin’s eyes had held such an expression of his betrayal- he had lied the entire time, had they ever really known him?- and it haunted Ryan’s thoughts.  

This wasn’t a feeling he had ever known.  He had never had something to lose before coming here.  And now he’d lost the most important thing he had ever held.  Soon he would lose the crew too, they would be just as furious, he would be a deceitful traitor, he would have to leave.  Would they ever forgive him, or would they hate him still when they died and became his wards?  He considered this for a moment before an idea came.

They couldn’t find hate him if they couldn’t find him.  The land Beneath, that which he had slowly come to hold a resigned sort of hatred for, it would be his safe haven.  They still had decades left on this earth before they would join him there, but… 

He could give them more, couldn’t he?  Was he not Death itself?   Surely, his beloved mortals, he could give them more.  He could give decades, centuries, more.  He could give eons.  He would have to leave immediately, grant them immortality and retreat into his icy void.  But surely, he thought, it would never come to that.  They were his family- a strange, mismatched little clan- but a family nonetheless.  

He was one of them, he had earned his place with skill in combat and care for the others, there was no way they would simply abandon him because of something this small.

Gavin, his dear Gavin, would understand why he had kept it a secret.  Jackie would scold him with her “mom voice” and Geoff would be stern before cracking jokes.  Jeremy would be full of questions and Michael would be rough about it, but he would adapt.  And besides that, Gavin would convince them.  

He would need time to process the information, of course, but eventually he would emerge with his burning kisses and sunshine smiles and he would hold Ryan’s hand when they told the crew.  Gavin would never abandon him, he had promised.  He swore he would never hate Ryan.  They had said “I love you”.  

Gavin was Ryan’s everything, and now he wouldn’t have to feel so horribly guilty when they were together.  His heart did not have to bear a coldness in the presence of such warmth.  They could be happy and carefree and in love.

Ryan woke in the morning with a heart full of hope.  Today was it, he would go to Gavin, apologize again for keeping this a secret, they would reconcile, kiss, and go to the kitchen.  They would tell the others side by side and Gavin would help to smooth it over, Gavin always knew the right thing to say.  The others would eventually accept it.

They would accept  _ him. _  They were family, they would love him still, their odd and often still-learning member… They would accept him, he knew it.

Ryan got dressed and headed straight to Gavin’s room.  It was empty.  He brushed it off, maybe Gavin was already with the others.  That would make it even simpler.

When Ryan entered the kitchen, he was met with cold stares that made him freeze in the doorway.  There was the crew, all… looking very upset.  

He had never seen Jack frown in such a manner, certainly not in his direction.  He had never seen such venom in the set of Geoff’s lips, the man had always been a sort of role model to Ryan, the godling often found himself copying expressions to try and learn.  

He does not think he would ever be able to aptly duplicate this face.  He does not think he would ever want to, only looking at it makes him feel sick and unbearably cold.  Those eyes had never been so icy.

“Good mo-”

“Gavin told us something really interesting Ryan.” Geoff spits his name out like it cuts his tongue, and Ryan feels the first thread of doubt in his plan.  “I really hope it's a fucking joke.”

“Gavin?”  Ryan looks at him, but the man won’t meet his eyes.  He just glares down at the wood floor and bites his lip.  “Geoff, I-”

“You lied.”  Ryan falters, Geoff’s eyes are sharp and they hurt his head.  “You think we’re something to play with Ryan? You think it's funny to fuck with humans or something?!”

Ryan-  _ Rian _ \- is pulled back to long ago, before, a talk with his brother:

_ “I will never go to Earth, Miles.”  He had been young then, still so new, so unknown despite the centuries before this moment, this time for him to watch Lindsay pull the blood from his brother’s skin, to carefully bandage wounds inflicted by mortals his sibling had trusted. _

_ “Don’t say such things, Rian, you will one day.”  His brother was still smiling, always smiling, always loving too much.  “They are wonderful in their own ways, and you will love them as we have.  They will not understand, that you love them, they will think you must be playing with them.” _

_ “Why?”  Miles had only smiled again, and Lindsay had shaken her head as she left. _

_ “Because we are Gods, Rian.  And they will always think, however wrong, ‘what can a mortal be to a God?’” _

“No, I-” a hand is slammed on the table.

“Don’t.”  Ryan stumbles back, he’s never seen Jackie so angry.  She looks livid. “We are done with lying.  It may be a game to you, but this is our life.  We don’t get eternity.  You’re fucking with us and we can’t do anything about it!” Ryan shakes his head.

“I’m not! This isn’t a game, I just wanted to-”

“To what?!” It's Michael this time, his face red and a snarl on his lips. “To see how many humans you could get in your bed before they found out? Jesus, did you even care at all?”

“Of course I care! Gavin, tell them, Gav-”

“Don’t talk to him! You’re done lying to him, he told us the truth.  We can’t trust you anymore.  All you ever did was lie for your own gain.”  Ryan feels like his heart has been ripped out.  All of them are glaring at him with a vicious fury- which isn’t as bad as Gavin, who won’t even look at him.  They hate him.

What has he done?  Why did he tell Gavin, he should have known better.  No one would ever love him if they knew who-what- he was.  He knew that.  He thought this time would be different, that they wouldn’t- that it wouldn’t matter.

He was so wrong.  He was so fucking wrong. 

“I didn’t-” Why is he even bothering to defend himself?  They wouldn’t believe him.  Death would never be trusted, never be loved.  Fuck, what had he done?

Miles was right, godlings would always come to love mortals, but they would never truly be loved in return.  Not if the mortals knew the truth.

“You can still stay on in the crew, for now, but I think we’d all feel better if you moved back to wherever you were before this.” Geoff delivers an ultimatum.  All Ryan hears is a death sentence.  Jack speaks next, her voice hard, and it's never been that tone directed at him before.

“You’ll have to start from the beginning, gain our trust again.  Right now… you’re lucky you aren’t out completely, Vagabond.”  And there it is again.  That name, the one he’d foolishly chosen.  It felt like a noose around his throat.  _ Vagabonds, people who wander restlessly, untrusted, never finding a home, never a part of any family.   _ Ryan’s eyes burn with unshed tears, but he nods and turns away before he wipes them.

He is immediately back at his small, lonely apartment, a snap of his fingers has all of his belongings returned.  He falls onto his bed and something catches his eye.  The mask he hadn’t worn since his last job, resting next to the small key he had to Gavin’s personal apartment.  He feels sick and is in the bathroom the next second, hunched over the toilet to heave. 

He falls asleep on the floor of the bathroom, wakes up to a text about a security job with Jackie, and washes up.  His body aches, and he pulls on his mask before leaving.  It’s the first time he’s put it on before a job in over five months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!
> 
> I'm worried it may seem a bit out of character, so be fore warned that the reason the crew are all absolute dicks to Ryan is more due to the extremity of circumstance.   
> -Their lives, in the business they're in, are directly interwoven with the trust held between crew members. For Ryan to have seemingly infiltrated their "family" and lied to them form the very beginning, they're faced with the fact that this man could have let them die-or killed them himself- out of sheer boredom.  
>  To them, it's like Ryan's been a cat playing with a mouse, manipulating them- and most of all Gavin, who is the closest to the "traitor"- for fun. Their thought process is that Ryan knew all about human customs and all the stuff that had made him seem like, well, HIM. They're left thinking that they've meant nothing to Ryan this whole time, and that he's put their lives at risk- that he's challenged their very souls so abruptly- for his own selfish whims.
> 
> Ryan, meanwhile, is just as confused and scared as ever, and doesn't understand how these people who he's come to love- to regard as highly as his own siblings- have so suddenly turned on him in hatred. He cannot grasp how he has lost so much, and-as always- can only blame himself. In his mind, he is an outsider even to his own immortal family, and mortals fear and despise him. His reason for lying- his own reason for self hatred- has become the reason he has lost the only friends, the only love, he has ever had. In all his Eons of Life, HE has been the reason he "didn't quite fit in", the reason he lived apart from his siblings, the reason he was hated. 
> 
> And now, he's become a shell of himself. With nothing left but the blame for his own failures and for the loss of his first, godly, family and for the loss of his beloved mortal family. So he hates himself, his purpose, even more, and falls into a state of numb dissociation, hence the come-back of the mask.


	7. I forgot all Prayers of joining You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan remains with the crew, and he craves heat. He still has not felt the burn of happiness- not since the night Gavin learned the truth- and he's become desperate.  
> Any sensation is welcome but the empty cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finished edits early, so here's Chapter 7 one day ahead of schedule!  
> On another note, I've got an essay due Tuesday and the ACT coming up, so unfilled requests may take a bit longer, sorry.  
> [Warnings for a bit of self-harm/ unhealthy coping mechanisms. He kinda loses his shit… I am so sorry for writing this, I’ve made myself cry in class.]  
> -Kat

I was over, finally.  Gavin and the crew knew.  While Gavin still hadn’t spoken to Ryan, and the god felt it was a deserved punishment, now the others were second guessing him.  Geoff kept him in his sights, Jeremy was distant and aloof, Michael had pulled a gun on him once when he moved too suddenly, and even Jack was uneasy around him.  His home was ruined.  He wasn’t welcome with them, wasn’t a part of their strange little family anymore.  He was once again despised by the humans… this time, by those who had once welcomed him with warm hearts and open arms.

That first job with Jackie, in the aftermath of the truth, Ryan was the perfect mercenary.  He thought, somewhat fleetingly, that if he could not apologize to them without being interrupted, then he could at least be what they needed him to be.  He didn’t speak, he didn’t dawdle, he didn’t question orders.  Jack regarded him with a guarded expression and suspicious eyes the entire time.  She told him to shoot the rival gang members, stood by idly when he finished killing them all, a few wounds of his own leaving an awful pain in his body.  

Worse than that- than any pain- Jackie didn’t speak to him as a person anymore.  For the first time since knowing her, she didn’t even tense when the rival members taunted that he was her ‘guard dog’.  She had always bristled at any treatment of Ryan as less than an equal, as some sort of vicious pet to be taken out to fight.  This time, the only indication that it upset her was the small flicker of eyes back to Ryan, and an inscrutable spasm of her face muscles, as if trying to frown but not finding the reason.  Muscle memory of an action fighting with belief that it isn’t needed.

She nodded to him when they left the warehouse, told him his job was done.  She didn’t seem to notice the tears spilling from his blue eyes, or if she did then she didn’t care.  He went back to his own apartment and sobbed alone in the shower for hours.  Everything had fallen apart.

Gavin didn’t love him, the crew didn’t want him, he was alone again.  He went to sleep that night in a pitch dark bedroom, piled with blankets in a vain attempt to keep out the cold, cuddling Edgar.  The humor of it wasn’t lost on him: something laughable and childish for the god of Death to be afraid, clutching a child’s toy for comfort.  The little cow made a valiant effort, but couldn’t seem to bring back the warmth that had once plagued Ryan’s chest.  He woke up three days later to his phone ringing.  He let it go to voicemail.

The text that followed gave him his job.  He followed instructions, once again in the mask, and helped create a distraction when the plans fell apart thanks to the main crew being down a man.  He laughed when the LSPD shot him because it was the most he had felt since the last job, when he’d been shot by the other gang.  

The laugh is quickly turned into a broken sob when he realizes that this is what his life has become: pain to feel heat, cold in the lonely dark.  This was worse than how he started.  This loss… he was struck suddenly by two things: another bullet, and empathy.  He could understand even more now the reasons mortals hated him.  He was the cause of their loss, perhaps not directly, but in the end it was all the same.  He felt a sudden deep loathing for himself, and began leading the LSPD further and further from the crew.

He doesn’t know if they care that he returns to his apartment riddled in bullets and burns so that they can get away.  He doesn’t know because all he can think about is the burning pain while he sits under scalding water in the shower, the pain as is pounds into his wounds.  It isn’t as nice as the burn from Gavin’s touch, but if he tries hard enough it feels a little similar.  The burning of the constant water is almost a soft touch if he imagines enough, so he loses himself in imagining.

The fire-wine he drinks endlessly has nothing on the warmth that he used to feel when they all celebrated after a heist, when the crew was happy.  But once he drinks enough of it, he feels off and light-headed and it’s almost like happiness.  It’s all he can get, so he’ll take it in as long as he can.

This time it's two weeks before the next job.  He hasn’t eaten, just slept and drank and sat for hours under burning showers.  His skin is riddled in half-healed burns and bullet-shaped scars.  His eyes are dull and have such dark circles Ryan decides that the paint would be too much work anyway.

He follows his orders, a blank slate under a mask; hollow.  Ryan barely notices anything until he sees Gavin, not quite behind cover and right the range of fire for the rival gang.  Ryan acts without thinking, he’s suddenly right in front of Gavin, locking eyes with the shocked lad for a moment before there’s a shot in the back of his head. He falters, then rights himself. 

“Get down, move further into cover, stay safe.”  His voice sounds terrible, like he’s a walking corpse, and it hurts his throat to speak.  He can taste blood in the back of his throat.

It’s worth it, because Gavin does as he says, and then it's worth it to feel the bullets rip through his human skin while he calmly walks over to the other side.  He feels suddenly terribly angry.  Gavin almost got hurt- Gavin could have died- and he sees red.

One rough sweep of his hand has all of the enemies dropping dead, their bodies crumpling into little heaps of bone and flesh and blood.  Ryan comes back to himself with Geoff and Gavin visibly staring at him.  He barely registers it, but he walks over to them, drops the Gavin’s spare key at his feet and turns to Geoff.  

“You don’t want me here anymore, so I will not burden you.  Thank you for letting me know what it was like, for the time it lasted.”  He drops the mask into Geoff’s hands.  The man’s fingers dig into the rubber and shake slightly from the force of the action.  Ryan isn’t sure if the wide eyes are because of his voice or his appearance.  Both are just as ghastly, and he almost shivers at the cooling blood that passes his lips with every syllable.  “In case you want to keep appearances up afterwards.”  He takes one last look a Gavin, who is finally,  _ finally _ , looking at him again- and vanishes.


	8. How many Years, I know I’ll Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is gone- really, their Ryan had been gone for much longer. He had left when they'd confronted him, checked out completely... But now they can't even pretend anymore. The quilt is eating at them, and the last thing they would expect right now would be for family to be involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter, I've decided to post early considering I've edited it already and need to focus on school work tomorrow. So, here's chapter eight, and I am increasingly sorry for the angst.   
> Enjoy!  
> -Kat <3

When they’re all back at the Penthouse, Geoff shares the news.  Ryan is gone, for good, and they’re down a member.  Jeremy is silent, Jackie worries at her hands, and Michael fumes silently.  Gavin just stares at the key.  

When he had given it to Ryan, he had said it wasn’t too late for confessions.  They had said “I love you.”  How much of that had been real?  If this key was how he was saying goodbye, then it must mean something.  Right?  And Ryan had looked so awful.

His face was sunken and pale, his eyes cold and expressionless, he was riddled with bullets.  Ryan wouldn’t let himself get that sickly unless it meant something, would he?  Had it really all been a lie?  Surely, Gavin couldn’t have reacted to badly to something that wasn’t true.  That was probably how Ryan always looked, he is Death, after all, he should look awful.

Michael broke the silence first, with a scathing comment of how they’d be better off.  Almost immediately followed by a small, unsure, “right?” Geoff was next.

“He looked… Dead.” Jeremy’s frown grows at their boss’s admission. “He sounded like he hadn’t talked in years.” Jackie pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“We shouldn’t have been so harsh.” She sounds tired, more so than Gavin’s ever heard her.  She starts to shake her head and sighs with a violent push of air from her mouth.  “He shut down completely.  He never used to wear that thing around us.” She indicates the mask in disgust.

“He shouldn’t have lied!” Michael’s defensive remark hangs in the air for a minute.

“He said he couldn’t tell me because I would hate him.” Gavin’s voice is impossibly small, guilt seeping in at the edges.  “I promised him I wouldn’t.  I told him I would still love him, I  _ promised _ .” They all stare at him while he focuses forlornly on the key in his hand.  “He was so afraid, he was shaking and gasping and hurting himself-” Gavin cuts off, digging the heels of his hands into his suddenly blurry eyes.  They come away wet with tears.  “I promised him.”

“Shit.” Geoff takes a deep, shuddering breath and frowns. “Shit.”

Jackie lets out another puff of air, her mind going back to when the lads found out about her… They had never been so terrible to her for how she was different, had supported her through everything.  Hell, she’d met Geoff before she started on hormones and all he did when he found out was help her find good ones and help pay for surgery.

“Ryan told me, a while ago,” Jeremy speaks, for the first time, nostalgia laced and saddened. “That he’d never felt so warm as with us- I… I had to explain to his that we weren’t actually giving him any warmth.” Jeremy is crying too. “I had to explain what happiness felt like.”

“Fuck.” Michael mutters.

“Damn right fuck.” the voice from the doorway startles all of them.  Lindsay is standing there, Mica in tow.  Both women are positively radiating an air of vengeance and Lindsay’s hair is whipping about her head as if there was a wild breeze in the stagnant room.  “Jesus christ, what is  _ wrong _ with you five?!”

“Linds-”  

“You fucking broke our baby brother.” Mica speaks up, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed.  The mortals only seem to be confused, but have the wherewithal to look chastised.  “Seriously.  He finally comes to Earth, falls in love, and finds acceptance and you rip it all away from him.  He called you his  _ family _ ! He talked about you like  _ you _ were the gods!”

“We didn’t-”  It’s a shock, the rapid and forced revelation that the two women are also gods- goddesses?  Really, Geoff thinks, they should have seen it coming.  Ryan had immediately gotten on with the girls.  They had all three appeared to be quite close much more quickly than any of the main crew.  They were even able to discern Ryan’s flubbed words or peculiar phrases, seeming to understand his barrier firsthand.

“We don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses, Michael.”  he flinches at Lindsay’s tone.   He had rarely ever been on the other side of Lindsay’s anger.  They were best friends before being lovers, they had always seemed to click.  Apparently not now.  “You were so cruel to him.  Did you hate Jack any less, knowing that she’s trans?”

“Rian isn’t any different.  He only ever wanted to be liked.  He’s never had the  _ tolerance _ of mortals, and you would dare to be angry at him for keeping his identity a secret?” Gavin’s face is burning in shame, the teeth of the key cutting into his fingers. “I’d kill you if I could.” Mica growls.

“Wait, what the hell do you mean  _ could _ ?!” Geoff demands, voice uneven and hands shaking still in anger at them and himself and Ryan- jesus, this was a mess.

“Guess he decided you lot deserved an eternity, for whatever reason.” Lindsay shrugs, eyes hard as she studies each of them.  “Maybe he doesn’t want you down there to remind him of what he used to have.” It feels like a hit to the chest for Geoff, his own words coming back to him.   _ Eternity _ .  

_ ‘It may be a game to you, but this is our life.  We don’t get eternity.’ _

They stood in the kitchen for a while after the two apparent goddesses left, hollow-hearted and guilt-ridden.  Gavin left first, to his room to grab his key to Ryan’s old apartment.  They had used it before as a safe house, laying low for a few days after a heist and just enjoying each other’s company.  He had never been there without Ryan at his side.

He drives recklessly to get there quick, but finds nothing but an empty bed.  He’s horrified to see the place in such a state, a reflection of what Ryan had been going through this whole time: piles of empty bottles, a blood-soaked bathroom, and dying plants.  Gavin picks Edgar up in his arms and curls into a ball under covers that still smelled like Ryan, crying until he falls asleep.


	9. Lay me gently in the Cold Dark Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rian has returned to his own world, and his siblings come to comfort the fallen godling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this chapter a day earlier than planned due to my ACT testing tomorrow. I'm afraid it was a bit short to start, and editing didn't do much to add anything, so I would recommend reading the companion piece for a more in-depth look. It's part II in the series and can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10309154

Ryan’s time since returning had been spent in the darkest, deepest parts of the Underworld, far away from any light that might tempt him with a memory of Gavin and his time on Earth.  He stays in the gardens and burrows deep under the black soil and silver rock of his realm.  Ignores the calls of Nona, and a few other souls he’d been close to.  

He ignores his sisters when they come to see him, even Mica’s new flowers and vines can’t seem to bring a smile to his face.  He watches when the seeds she left behind grow into vines that curl around his wrists and waist and seem to pull him further into the dirt.

Miles and Blaine come by with jokes and light smiles that soon become strained.  Ryan is reminded of his brother’s words to him so long ago.  He wants to call out, to tell Miles it isn’t his fault, he warned him, Rian should have listened- but his lips won’t move and his throat seems useless and closed to him.  

Miles cries and Ryan feels guilty but still can’t seem to make himself move.  Blaine ushers the god of Light away after Miles kisses Ryan’s cheek goodbye.

Jon comes by next, brings his music and sings for Ryan, something which had always elated the other until now.  He hums one of his healing hymns and brushes his concoctions of herbs and cool waters on the godling’s visible skin.  

He says something about inner healing, but the sounds don’t seem to make sense.  Ryan falls asleep to the sound of one of Jon’s epic poems, this one about a little godling who finds many false homes before he stumbles upon the right one and is finally happy.  

Ryan doesn’t wake.

He dreams of the godling from Jon’s ballad.  He tries to find a home among the other godlings, but he is too far from them and his always cold when he is alone. 

He tries to find a home with the mortals, but is too badly burnt by them, and falls away  from the Earth in a charred mess.  Finally, the godling lies in the earth of a cold world and tries to make a home among the plants. 

The godling likes the plants, thinks that they are very kind to grow in such a place just so he can have company.  They are very loving to the godling, curling around him in a hug to pull him beneath the soil. They care for the godling, growing around him, flourishing into a shelter of leaves and shadows.  The plants are understanding,and so they leave him a space to see the starry sky from.

The godling watches the sky, remembering his youth.  He was god of Night, he hung that moon and designed those constellations.  He was the god of Ice, he brought the first winter to the Earth so that the crops in spring would flourish more beautifully.  He was the god of Death, he cared for all the souls of those who died. 

Slowly, the plants heal the godling.  They remind him of who he was, who he is, who he will be.  They keep him warm beneath their leaves, the dirt his bed.  He feels that light, airy warmth that someone once told him is what happiness feels like.

Happiness feels sweet on the godling’s tongue, it honeys his rough throat, fills his aching stomach, spreads into his limbs and mind.

Rian wakes to his sisters feeding him ambrosia and nectar and sour, deep red fruits.  The mix of honeyed sweetness and bitter flesh makes him smile.  He embraces each of them, thanks them between kisses to their cheeks.  Promises to be right back.

They watch him climb the mountains in leaping strides, spiriting away into the hazy boundary between his world and the next.  

He does not expect to be welcomed back by those who burned him.  They were always too much for him, but he was a foolish Icarus who wanted to taste the heat of the sun on his lips, and he paid the price.  He does not return expecting a reunion.  He does not expect to be welcomed or to be wanted. 

 He leaves for Earth with the purpose of righting a petty wrong he committed, with the purpose of settling any hatred in order to continue on with his duties.  Even still, he leaves with a small wish to re-kindle some sort of light that he had once had.  After all, the sun is not too much if kept at a distance.

He leaves for the Earth with a heart full of hope. 


	10. I’d be Home with You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rian has risen from the earth beneath the Earth and back into the world of man. Warmth returns to him, but no longer does it sear his mortal being's flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'd just like to say that I am so amazed by all of the lovely feedback and kudos and wonderful readers for this thing! I am completely amazed that you think my writing is decent!  
> I would like to apologize for being late on this chapter, but between school and my birthday I just didn't have the time to edit the finale completely, and I would loath to give you a flop ending.  
> So here it is: Chapter 10, the final installment of Turning Gold!  
> I would love to know if a world-building work of 5 chapters about Ryan's "siblings" would interest any of you.  
> Thanks so much again for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!  
> -Kat <3

The day Ryan returns to them the sky is a soft blue and the sun is hidden by light clouds.  He decides that this must be a good sign, ponders if the day-time sky is finally reflecting his moods as its counterpart often does.  

A wisp of memory crowds his mind for a moment: stargazing on a car roof, questions with no real answer, golden jewelry.

He walks in the door of the penthouse, surprising Michael and Jeremy who had been perched on the sofa, playing video games.  Ryan closes the door softly behind him and turns around only barely in time to catch Jeremy.

The short lad had hurled himself at Ryan, wrapping strong arms around the god and grinning wildly with teary brown eyes.  A fluttering sort of warmth curls at the godling’s skin, but the intense, too-much feeling isn’t there anymore.  Ryan laughs softly and hugs him back, smiling.

“I’ve missed you as well.” Ryan tells him.

“Hope you weren’t too cold, Rye.” The words hold a deeper meaning, he knows.  A call to a conversation they’d had once before.  Jeremy pulls back and Michael gets up, hugging Ryan with a softly muttered insult.

“Lindsay misses you.” Ryan murmurs, Michael nods, his solemnly set mouth contradicted by the small crinkling hope at the corners of his eyes.

“I missed both of you too.” Ryan smiles at them and Michael squeezes his shoulder.

“Gav’s in your room.” Ryan thanks him before heading down the too-long hallway.  His is the last on the right, still, and by the time he reaches it he feels sick.  He doesn’t want to see Gavin and have to keep his distance.  He doesn’t want to see disgust in his love’s eyes.  He doesn’t want to settle for silver when gold is so within his grasp.  He stalls for a good minute before opening the door.

Gavin is lying on his bed, Edgar (though now the little cow seems tattered a bit, faded with use, and Ryan stops to wonder just how long he had really been gone for) encased in his arms, eyes closed, lips parted in a tiny snore.  Ryan’s heart aches to simply crawl in next to Gavin, press a kiss to his neck, and cuddle close for a nap.  But Gavin doesn’t want that- probably.  Granted, he is in Ryan’s old room, with all his blankets, holding Ryan’s now well-worn bovine plushie.  Ryan turns to leave, deciding to come back later.

“ _Rye_?” Gavin’s voice is awed, touched with sleep and uncertainty.  He sounds afraid.  Dammit, why couldn’t he have told them sooner, or held himself back better? Or- “Ryan, please don’t leave again.”  and then, much softer, “please be real, Rye, _please_.”

“I didn’t-” Ryan sighs, turns back sheepishly. “I thought you were sleeping.”  Gavin stands up, revealing his sweatpants but one of Ryan’s shirts.  It hangs on his frame, ill fitting and loose, and Ryan wonders where it was hidden that he left it behind. He crosses the room hesitantly, but once he reaches Ryan he simply collapses into the god’s arms. “Gav-”

“ ‘M so sorry Rye,” Gavin’s cries are muffled by Ryan’s chest, the god’s arms around the human in a heartbeat.  “I overreacted and I hurt you-I broke my promise, _Ryan_ , I-”

“Hush, it's okay, it was my fault too.” Gavin adamantly shakes his head, holding tighter to the god. 

“No, it was mine.  I pushed you to tell me, an’ then I freaked out- I promised you, but I-” Ryan kisses him, just a light peck to his rapidly moving lips, but it quiets him effectively.

“I missed you, Dear.” Gavin blushes, smiling faintly.

“I missed you too love.” Another small kiss from Ryan and he’s pulling them both into the bed, cuddling close to his love, heat sparking light in his skin.  “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I know dear, I love you too.” Ryan kisses his forehead, holding him close. “We’ll both be better this time. ”

“Yeah.”

 

Jackie and Geoff had their own reunions with Ryan later that night, as well as Lindsay with Michael.  The two both seemed somehow brighter once reunited.  Mica stayed over for gaming with Jeremy, and by morning each of Ryan’s siblings had made promises to visit soon.  

Ryan missed six months, spent them under leaves and stars, but he was back now.  Gavin brought sunlight to his world of cool darkness.  The burning wasn’t too harsh.

  
_At last, the little godling tried a fourth home, after his mortals had grown.  The other godlings came to share in the home when they could, and the godling’s plants grew in fertile soils around their new land.  The warmth never left, but the cool air kept it bearable.  And this godling was sure of his Midas’s golden touch, for the gold settled on their fingers eventually, and the rings seemed to sparkle in the golden light that poured in through the window.  The city’s lights bathed them in a kaleidoscope of colors, and they fell asleep tracing the patterns on each other’s skin._


End file.
